


When Fate Has a Sense of Humor

by crazyDCchick



Series: The Rose Faulkner Chronicles [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Facing Past Experiences, Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post Season 7, Redemption, Swearing, Unexpected Friendship, childhood bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyDCchick/pseuds/crazyDCchick
Summary: It’s been eleven years since I last stepped foot in the Southside of Chicago. Eleven years since I said goodbye to my best friend. And eleven years since I last saw everyone who bullied me and my best friend. I hoped that one day I would go back and see how everyone was doing, and give my biggest bully a piece of my mind. Little did I realize, I would get that opportunity sooner than expected. But, it’s definitely not where I expected.





	1. Fated Meeting?

_Soft sniffles and warm arms surround me. I still couldn’t believe that today was the day._

 

_I was leaving Chicago._

 

_At 11 years old, leaving the place I was born felt weird. Knowing that after today I wouldn’t be able to walk down the street and knock on that all too familiar brown door to see my best friend and his siblings._ _I’m an only child, but when I was with the Gallagher kids, I never felt alone._

_Fiona, the eldest kid, always felt like my older sister. She was so kind and always gave me a hug whenever I started to cry. Her hugs always made things feel better._

_Lip was a funny kid but could be a smartass in the drop of a hat. But, he never failed to make me laugh._

_Debbie and Carl were like my little siblings. I had fun playing dress up with Debbie and Fiona whenever I was over. Carl, on the other hand, was like the pesky little brother who liked to try and pull pranks on me, though he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was. Occasionally I let him get a good prank in, but ever rarely did that happen. He was still fun to hang out with, nonetheless._

_But the Gallagher I loved spending time with the most was my best friend, Ian. We were only born months apart, so we ended up being in the same classes quite often. We basically did everything together. Two peas in a pod, we were._

_So, when my dad told me we were moving to Texas at the end of the school year, I was crushed. I was looking forward to starting 6th grade in the fall, possibly making new friends (emphasis on possibly), and seeing what classes Ian and I would have together._

_But that was all taken away when my parents packed up. We left Chicago in late June. The Gallagher kids came to my now empty home to say their farewells. Saying goodbye to them was the most painful thing I ever felt. But saying goodbye to Ian was breaking me. And I could tell it was hard for him, too._

_We cried while we hugged goodbye. I didn’t wanna let go._

_I didn’t wanna leave Chicago._

_I_ _didn’t wanna leave my neighborhood._

_I didn’t wanna leave the Gallaghers._

 

_I didn’t wanna leave Ian._

 

_But, my mom called for me to get into the car. It was time._

_I took one last look at Ian. His eyes red, his freckled features stained with tears. I knew my face didn’t look any better. Heck, all the Gallaghers were a mess!_

_My hazel eyes met Ian’s green eyes and it took all the strength left in me not to stay._

_I looked at everyone one last time before choking out a soft “bye” and turned to get into the car._

 

* * *

My eyes fluttered open. I could feel the prickling behind my eyes of tears threatening to fall. I blinked a few times to rid them from my eyes as I slowly started to rise from my bed.

I hadn’t dreamt about the Gallagher’s in years. But, that raw feeling of leaving them was still as fresh as the day I left eleven years ago.

I never made it back to Chicago after leaving. My family moved to San Antonio and I finished my schooling there. But, we lived on the northside of town. It felt weird but I eventually adjusted and did my best in school. I did choir in middle school and in high school for two years, but I ultimately decided to quit choir sophomore year when my ROTC career took off.

Everything was going great and I rarely thought about the second family I left behind in Chicago. I bet they slowly forgot about me, too. That’s life, I guess.

I went through my morning routine, some simple stretching followed by doing a bit of kickboxing for some light cardio before taking a shower. Light breakfast and quick makeup followed. I changed into my work attire, which consisted of a light red tank top and dark wash jean shorts that came to the middle of my thigh. I quickly tied my light brown hair into a high ponytail before heading to the door, quickly throwing on my black tennis shoes and grabbing my purse and sunglasses as I left my condo.

The walk to work was nice, especially during the summer. It wasn’t too hot in the morning, so I didn’t have to fear any makeup running because of sweat just yet.

I’ve been living in Tampico, Mexico for about a year and a half, only making a trip back to San Antonio once. Let’s just say, my life since graduation has been one hell of a roller coaster. So, to be another country and on my own at 21 felt great. And besides, it was giving me a chance to find myself in the world. Cliché, I know. But, I needed to get away.

I worked at a small restaurant as a waitress and the tips were usually pretty good. Plus, seeing as I, myself, was not a local, I could serve tourists just as quickly as a local patron. Though my Spanish did need some more improvement, I was still thousands of times better compared to when I first came to Mexico.

 

* * *

 

The day went as usual until a particularly interesting individual walked in. I could tell he was a tourist, so I went to his table.

“Hello, what can I start you off with?” I said to the man as he looked over a menu.

He barely looked up at me as he ordered a coffee. I left and brought back his drink, asking him if he needed a few more minutes before ordering. Instead, he handed over the menu and order the lunch special before looking down at his coffee and started to drink it.

The whole time I was serving him, he barely spoke more than he needed to. His voice felt a little guarded and his posture was stiff.

I noticed that he had tattoos on his knuckles and I could guess what type of guy he was, considering on his right knuckles was tattooed with “Fuck” and his left finished off the sentence with “U-UP”.

But, there was something about him that seemed familiar. I just shook my head at that idea. Where would I know a guy with his knuckled tatted up with that expression?

He left about an hour after he got there, and surprised me by leaving a big tip. I pocketed the money as I bussed the table. I silently thanked him for the tip and went about my day.

 

* * *

He came back two days later and ordered the same thing. He did make eye contact this time and I saw that he had a pair of really blue eyes. But, I could also see they were a bit swollen like he’d been crying recently. My heart broke a little for him. Whatever he was going through, I hoped he had someone to talk to.

 

* * *

Three days later, I was sitting outside the restaurant after being fired mid-shift. I guess some of the other waitresses just got tired of a white girl being there. I knew they whispered about me in the break room behind my back.

I honestly didn't give a shit. It's not like I actually needed this job.

 

It was around 1 when the man walked by. He stopped when he saw me sitting outside the restaurant. I had only been sitting there for about 10 minutes.

“Hey.”

I looked up at him. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his cargo shorts, a cigarette wedged between his lips.

“Oh, it’s you,” was all I could say.

His hand went to the cig in his mouth and he blew out some smoke. “You not working today?”

“Nope. I won’t be working there for the rest of the week, either.”

The man took a drag. “They give you a week off?”

I stood up from my spot and dusted off my shorts. “Gave me rest of my life off.”

His eyebrows rose a little. “Those fuckers fired you?”

I nodded. “Oh well. Their loss.”

I looked towards the man. “The owners aren’t that bad. It’s the other waitresses that are the real bitches.”

I glared inside at one of my former co-workers before turning to walk away.

“Don’t let me not working there anymore keep ya from going in,” I said over my shoulder.

“Fuck that,” I heard behind me before hearing footsteps catch up to me. I looked to my right and saw the man walking with me.

“Sure, the food’s good, but the only reason I went in there the first time was because I saw you and figured you would know English.”

I chuckled. “But what if you were wrong and my English was shit?”

The man shrugged. “Powered through it and probably never would have gone back.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up. “So… are you just following me now?”

The man looked at me sideways. “Fuck no.”

“They why are you still walking next to me?”

He shrugged. “Just something familiar about you, I guess.”

I stopped and looked at him. He was a few inches taller than me so I had to lift my head a little to look at him.

“You felt it, too?”

“Huh?”

“That first day you walked into the restaurant, I felt like I knew you from somewhere, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“Ah. Yeah. Had the same thought, too. Only it was the name on your nametag that seemed familiar.”

“My name?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I feel like I knew some girl named 'Rose' years ago. Then she just disappeared.”

My head cocked to the right. “Do you remember her last name?”

“Nah. Not her real one, anyway. I was kinda a jackass to her. Kinda how I was raised. The Southside of Chicago is definitely not a nice place for young girls.”

I felt my face fall. He’s from Chicago. The Southside. My heart sped up a little. Please, let this guy not be who I think he is…

“So, what was the name you called her?” I asked.

“Somethin’ stupid. If you said her name fast enough it sounded like ‘fucker’, so I started calling her that whenever I saw her.”

And that’s when I felt my stomach drop. Before I knew it, my left hand was flying into his gut, knocking the wind right out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been OBSESSED with Shameless for the past month and a half. The idea for this character, Rose, came about while I was watching season 5. Her original beginning was completely different at the time. But, now that I’ve finished season 7, Rose’s introduction has changed drastically. But this allowed me to figure out more about her and her past in Chicago and post-Gallagher life in San Antonio.
> 
> And don’t worry. I’m a hardcore Gallavich shipper, so there won’t be any funny business going on between Rose and Mickey. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I'm excited to start working on this and I hope you all like Rose. She came into existence in my mind one day and has not left since. She's quite the character and I'm excited for Y'all to learn more about her and her past after leaving Chicago. 
> 
> (I have a bad habit of giving characters shitty backgrounds. Rose is, unfortunately, no exception to this. (Sorry Rose!))
> 
> So hang onto your hats, because this may very well become a long journey!


	2. Learning The Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since when did Mickey and Ian become buddy-buddy? I know I was gone for a while, but the last time I saw Mickey and Ian within the same space, Ian was trying to keep Mickey away from me.  
> Mickey looked at me. “You missed a lot.”  
> “No shit…”

 

I can’t believe it. I can’t fucking believe it! How is it that the first person I run into from my Chicago days would be fucking Mickey Milkovich!?

He was currently gasping for air as I stood over him. His blue eyes turned icy when he looked up at me.

“The fuck was that for!?”

I glared at him. “For harassing me when I was 10, you piece of shit!”

“I didn’t fuckin’ harass you,” he said as he slowly stood back up. 

My hands fisted by my sides. How can he even for a second think what he did wasn’t harassment! Let alone, borderline sexual harassment. 

I rolled my eyes at him as I sighed.

“Why you?” I said through gritted teeth. “Why after eleven years did my first reunion with someone from Chicago have to be Mickey fuckin’ Milkovich!”

I turned and was about to walk away when I heard him mumble under his breath. All I caught was the name “Gallagher” and “fuckin’ idiot”. I turned back around.

“What’d you say?”

Mickey’s eyes bore into mine as he repeated himself.

“I said, it’s not my fault fuckin’ Gallagher didn’t come with me over the border. He’s a fuckin’ idiot for turning his back on me at the border.”

“What?” I was thoroughly confused. Why was Mickey cursing one of the Gallagher brothers? Which one turned their back on him at the border? Hell, why would one of them come with him to the fucking border of Mexico all the way from Chicago!?

Mickey sighed before leaning against the wall that was behind him. His arms crossed over his chest as he looked to his right at something in the distance.

“Ian ran with me to the border before giving me practically his life savings and fuckin’ telling me goodbye. Asshole...”

I could hear Mickey’s voice break towards the end. Since when did Mickey and Ian become buddy-buddy? I know I was gone for a while, but the last time I saw Mickey and Ian within the same space, Ian was trying to keep Mickey away from me.

Mickey looked at me. “You missed a lot.”

“No shit…”

 

* * *

Mickey and I went to a coffee shop nearby and he filled me in on everything I missed out on. Once he finished, my head cocked to the side.

“So, Ian is gay and was banging his boss when you were out for blood because your sister told you he violated her. Then she calls you off Ian and you continue to mess with Kash until Ian comes looking for the gun you stole and that’s when  _ you  _ and  _ Ian  _ banged…”

Mickey nods.

“You two were on and off again for a few years. Got caught in the act by your jackass of a father. He pistol whips you and then forces a Russian prostitute on you. You get her knocked up and have to marry her while ignoring Ian. He runs off, joins the army illegally then goes AWOL. Lip finds him at a club, which you visit days later to find out he went to another club to work.”

I stopped and chuckled a little. “Ian was a stripper, huh.”

Mickey smirked. “He did look good in those fuckin’ gold booty shorts.”

“Sequence or shiny?”

His eyebrows scrunched together. “The fuck should I know?”

I shrugged. “Anyway…”

I took a sip of my coffee as I continued to process the events that lead Mickey here.

“You two hooked back up and everything was going great. You came out. Ian and you beat the shit out of your father, with him ending back in jail. Then, Ian hit his depression but you wanted to help Ian without sending him to the psych ward.”

I pause as I look at Mickey, straight in the eye. “Noble, Mickey. Seriously, noble of you. But you should have taken him to the hospital sooner.”

“I fuckin’ know that now.”

I held my hands up. “I know. But, you did when Ian took your son and got arrested. He refused medication... as to be expected from someone who refuses their own diagnosis. You helped him out, only for his half-sister, Sammi, to turn him into the MP’s as revenge for her own son being sent to juvie. Then Monica pops up and takes Ian out of the military’s custody and he runs away with her only to come back days later and break up with you.

“Sammi comes trying to kill you because you locked her away in a box for a week and you both get sent to jail. You escaped and Ian ran away with you until you got to the border and he decided to hand over everything he’d been saving for the past year at his job to you and sent you on your way across the border.”

I looked at Mickey. “Did I miss anything else?”

“Nope.”

I leaned back into my chair and sighed. “Well, shit. Who would have thought Mickey Milkovich was gay this whole time and all it took was the innocent Ian Gallagher to flip that switch.”

I smirked as Mickey flipped me off.

“Man, sounds like a dream almost compared to the shit I’ve been through.” I took a sip of my coffee and chuckled a little. “Seems like all dad’s from the Southside end up being total assholes.”

Mickey’s head popped up from his cup. “The fuck happen with your dad?”

I shook my head as I looked off to my right. “The move happened. Everything turned to shit once we arrived in Texas. By the time I graduated, my mom was signing divorce papers. Turns out, my dad also was a raging drunk. Just managed to hide it when we were in Chicago.”

He leaned forward over his coffee. “I spilled my guts. Your turn.”

I eyed Mickey before sighing, my shoulders dropping in defeat. “Fine.” 

I looked down at my cup and realized that in order for me to get through my story, I was gonna need something a bit stronger than coffee. I looked back up at Mickey and sighed again.

“I’m gonna need something a bit stronger than this, though.”

Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed together before his right eyebrow rose. “That fuckin’ bad?”

I nodded. “I’ve got some good beer back at my place.”

* * *

 

The whole walk to my condo was quiet. I was glad he didn’t try asking any questions. I don’t think I could have answered them. My heart was racing a little. Just thinking about some things that happened in the eleven years made me anxious. I hated having to relive some of those moments, especially when I had to talk about them with my psychiatrist.

That was a fun time…

As we approached my place, I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. This usually worked enough before I could get some alcohol in my system. I just hoped I had enough….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much this chapter, but necessary nonetheless. Next chapter will see Rose opening up about her past. Though, how long (and how many bottles of beer) will it take her before she opens up, or before Mickey gets annoyed with her stalling and ends up drinking all of her beer?  
> Remember when I said I like giving characters tragic or had backgrounds? Yeah, you’ll see what I mean by that… (makes me sad just thinking about it… I know I could change it, but it’s just what makes Rose who she is today.)
> 
> Until next chapter! Comments and kudos welcome!


	3. You Can Never Really Escape Your Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I found myself slowly thinking of the Gallagher’s less and less. Come freshman year, they never were even a blip in my mind. I joined my high school’s NJROTC unit and continued with choir until sophomore year. That year, my personal life went to shit.”

Mickey sat on the couch across from me, leaning against the armrest. He took a swig of the beer and waited in silence as I stared at my drink. My feet were on the cushion under me, allowing me to hide a little behind my knees. I took one last long drink before I let a sigh out and looked at Mickey.

I honestly didn’t know where to start. Mickey and I weren’t that close as kids. I only saw him a handful of times, and the latter times were because of his obvious advances when I was 10. (I was an early bird… many girls in my class were kinda jealous of me because the ‘older kids’ took notice of me first back then.)

“Any day now, Faulkner.”

I glared at Mickey a little after that comment. At least he’s past calling me ‘Fucker”.

“I just don’t know where to start,” I shrugged. “In case you forgot, we weren’t exactly friends growing up.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Just fuckin’ pretend I’m Ian.”

My eyebrow rose at his comment. “Seriously…”

"If it helps, yeah.”

I sighed, took another sip and set my beer on the coffee table on my left. My arms wrapped around my knees as I looked past Mickey to the view outside. The slow rise and fall of the tide helped center my thoughts and calm me a little.

“Middle school was alright,” I started. “Made a few friends, but no one got as close as Ian use to be. There was one girl, though. Lily. She became my best friend after the first week. We were in choir together and our voices sounded nice together. She was technically an alto, but she could hit some of those higher notes. I’m more on the higher soprano side, but I can get to the lower notes just as easily. We did competitions and talent shows together all three years. She’s what made middle school bearable.

“I found myself slowly thinking of the Gallagher’s less and less. Come freshman year, they never were even a blip in my mind. I joined my high school’s NJROTC unit and continued with choir until sophomore year. That year, my personal life went to shit.”

I took a breath before looking at Mickey.

“One of my fellow cadets, Ashlyn, told me that she saw my boyfriend, who I’d been dating for two years, sneak into the girl’s bathroom after school. She told me that she waited a few moments to see if he would come out, but he hadn’t. That’s when she got closer to the door, only to find it locked and heard a few grunts and soft moans come from the other side. She hid in the empty classroom in front of the bathroom and waited for them to come out.”

I grabbed my bottle and took another sip to wet my tongue and willed the tears that were pricking at my eyes to go away before I continued.

“She described the girl that walked out with him and I knew it was Lily. My best friend had been fucking my boyfriend behind my back for who knows how long before this.”

“You kick her ass?” Mickey asked.

I shook my head. “It was either beat the crap out of her and lose everything I worked to accomplish in ROTC, with the possibility of risking future promotions I was almost guaranteed to get OR humiliate both of them anonymously. I didn’t want to risk getting caught, and luckily Ashlyn was more than willing to help out. She caught them on a hidden camera walking out of the bathroom together, hands still all over each other, and a few days later the whole 10th grade knew that Lily was a backstabbing slut and Max was an asshole who no one wanted to talk to. Especially after the show I put on when someone showed me the footage. It’s amazing what a few tears and a bit of acting skill could do.”

“Damn… that’s fuckin’ cold.”

I shrugged. “Bitches deserved worse. Anyway, things went well for a little while. Had a new boyfriend within a month of that little fiasco. Jack. Star sports reporter for the school’s news broadcast. With me doing color guard at the football games for the pledge and him always on the sidelines, it just naturally developed. Jump to my sweet 16 and, boy, did he make that night memorable.”

I saw Mickey’s eyebrows raise at what I was implying. “First time? Like ever?”

I nodded.

“Was he any good?”

I shrugged. “I guess so. We fucked at least once a week after that. But, I guess one night we really got into it. Come to find out a few weeks later, I was pregnant.”

“He went bareback and didn’t tell you!?”

I shook my head. “Nope. We never did anything until he had a condom on. But, he was always an impatient guy and would rip the damn packaging off with his teeth as quickly as he could. Opened one one night and poked a hole in it with his teeth, which lead to me being knocked up at 16. He wasn’t very happy when I told him. Kept yelling at me, saying it was my fault that I didn’t get the Morning After pill when I found out and shit.”

“You weren’t on birth control?”

“It’s not like I planned on having sex when I turned 16. It just happened. Plus, I discovered that Mother Nature doesn’t like to come and visit me every month. Just figured I could go a few months before asking my mom to get me on the pill.”

I sighed as readjusted myself on the couch, crossing my legs underneath me.

“Jack was over at my home when I told him that he was going to be a father. It was early June and we had just gotten out of our last day of school. He started pacing in the kitchen and before I knew it, he was coming at me with a knife, calling me a ‘stupid fuckin’ slut’ and stabbed me in the gut. My mom was home and came downstairs from office when she heard Jack yell. She saw him stab me and immediately pulled him off me and hit him hard in the face, breaking his stupid nose. He ran out as mom called 911. Needless to say, I lost the baby and came out of that with a nice little scar.”

I pulled my tank top up a little to show Mickey the 2-inch scar that’s faded over time. But, it won’t ever go away. That scar will always be there.

“Jack ended up in Juvie, assault with a deadly weapon. That was the last time I had a boyfriend.”

“You’ve been single since then?” Mickey huffed out a small chuckle. “Don’t blame ya. Seems like all the guys at your school were jackasses.”

I smirked. “I said that was my last _boyfriend_. I never said I didn’t date anyone after him.”

Mickey’s eyes went wide before he chuckled again. “It took two deadbeat guys before you realized you were a lesbian?”

“I’m still attracted to guys, Mickey. Don’t get me wrong.”

Mickey thumbed his bottom lip. “So you’re…”  
  
“I’m bisexual, Mickey. I don’t lean more one way than the other. If I see someone I like, I let them know it. I could care less what their gender is. For me, it’s all about personality.”

Mickey nods. “So, after asswipe boyfriend number two…” he motioned me to continue.

“After the stabbing, a few ROTC friends came to visit. But, Ashlyn visited me every day. After she helped me bust the backstabbing slut and the asshole, we became close friends. She was always there for me. Hell, she was the first one I told when I found out I was knocked up. Took me awhile, but I slowly realized that I really liked her, which lead to me realizing I was bisexual.

“We spent all summer that year together. Just before school got back in session, she was over at my house after air rifle practice and we were playing around. Got to the point where I was on top of her on my bed and tickling her like crazy. There was just something about that laugh that really made me realize that I developed feelings for her. I kinda froze up when that realization hit me and we were staring at each other for a moment before I leaned down and kissed her.

“She responded almost immediately and before we knew it, the playing around turned into an extremely hot make-out session. We kept a low profile around the school, knowing that if anyone realized that the air rifle team executive officer and the unarmed drill team executive officer were in a relationship, things could get messy and possibly a bit complicated. Plus, relationships between officers were kinda frowned upon in our unit. Well, relationships in general between anyone in the unit was frowned upon. Our instructors wanted us to focus on our future after high school, but relationships weren’t forbidden.

“Senior year rolled around and I was spending less and less time at home and more time either at the school or at Ashlyn’s house. My dad was laid off and started coming home either completely plastered, high, or a combination of the two. He would hurt my mom and occasionally try and hurt me. I managed to fight him off every time, but I got to the point where I didn’t want to be home if he was home. Mom started spending time away from the house, too.

“A few weeks before graduation, my mom told me she was signing divorce papers. I could not tell you how happy I was when she told me that. My now deadbeat father would be long gone from my life and my mom would have a chance to be happy again. My dad’s drinking problem was bad enough before he was laid off, but that was the last straw for mom. So, to put one final nail in my dad, the day after I graduated, I went to enlist. My dad hated that I was in ROTC all throughout high school, said something like it was polluting and brainwashing me.”

“Sound’s like somethin’ Frank would say.”

I chuckled. “My dad did like to hang out with Frank….” I shook my head and continued. “Ashlyn was going to go to A&M. Wanted to be a Public Affairs officer in the Navy. Signed up to do NROTC. I honestly could care less if I went to college and came out an officer, but Ashlyn knew what she wanted and I supported her completely. We agreed to write often, seeing as once I  finished basic I wouldn’t know where I would go afterward. So, I shipped off one week after graduation, with my mom and Ashlyn seeing me off at the airport.”

I felt my throat tighten up. A single tear managed to escape before I wiped at my eyes. I looked down at my lap, remembering the last time I saw Ashlyn. The smile on her face, knowing that we were going to see each other again in a few weeks at my graduation...

I felt a hand come to rest on my knee. I took a breath before saying, “That was the last time I saw Ashlyn. She and her family went to the Chisos Mountains. A sort of ‘congratulations’ vacation before she would start getting ready for college. But, Ashlyn didn’t come back. She lost her footing when some rubble fell from under her and she fell. Broke her spine in several places and her neck snapped on impact. A painless death, I was told.

“I was in my third week of basic when I got the news. Her family didn’t have a funeral. Just a memorial service since they cremated Ashlyn.”

I pulled out my phone and showed Mickey a picture of Ashlyn. It was the last one we ever took together. My mom insisted on taking it so we would have a decent picture together and not some selfie.

Ashlyn’s arms were around my waist, head resting against my right shoulder as we both smiled. She was a couple inches shorter than me, but she loved wearing heels. Thankfully, that day she wore her dark red vans, paired off with denim shorts and a strappy maroon tank top. Resting around her neck was a simple silver necklace that I gave her as a graduation present. It had a silver rose dangling from it with a small cubic zirconia in the center of the rose that shined under the light. Her orangey red hair was free from a ponytail that morning, cascading in gentle waves down to her mid-back. Her bright, brown eyes sparkled that day.

I was wearing some blue sweats and a thin black hoodie with black tennis shoes. My hair, though a darker shade of brown at the time, was cut chin length. I knew having it that short would cut out time in my mornings once I got to basic. Ashlyn was sad to see my hair be so short, but I told her when I cut it that it was only temporary. ‘Just until I graduate basic’, were my exact words to her. I kept my promise to her. I grew my hair out after basic back to the length I had it before basic.

“Redhead, huh?” Mickey said. I nodded.

“Guess we both got a thing for redheads, huh? Even the two sorry excuses for boyfriends were gingers.” I took the phone back from Mickey and looked at the picture. A soft smile took over my face as I looked at her. “She was the first person I ever really loved. Maybe only person. I’m just glad I got to tell her that I loved her one last time before I boarded that plane.”

I put my phone up and grabbed my bottle, finishing off the last of the beer in it. Mickey had already risen from his spot and grabbed another for the both of us before settling on the other end of the couch again.

“So, how’d you end up in Mexico? What happened?”

“I stayed in the Navy for a few months, stationed in Corpus Christi. I was closing in on my 9th month I had my first big psychotic break. I don’t remember what happened, but I woke up in the hospital and my arms were restrained to the bed.

“After the testimonies of my crew members who were on shift with me were given to the doctors, they asked me if I knew anyone named ‘Maria’. I denied knowing anyone by that name but said that there were times as a kid I would suddenly space out and come to again, not remembering what happened. That whenever that happened, I would start speaking in perfect Spanish. I came to call this other person ‘Maria’. That’s when I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Better known as Multiple Personality Disorder.”

Mickey nodded as he leaned forward. “So what happened when Maria…”

“Came out? Apparently, she was screaming in Spanish something like ‘Someone better bring me my husband, or else I’ll blow this whole base up’ and some other random shit. Apparently, also tried stabbing people, which explained the hand restraints in the hospital. I was discharged from the hospital and sent to BAMC in San Antonio, where I got treated and then discharged from service due to a mental illness.

“After I got placed on some antidepressant and anxiety meds, did a few sessions of therapy, I decided that I needed to get away. Make a life for myself somewhere else. My therapist suggested coming to the beach, so I came to Tampico for a vacation. Loved it so much, I decided to move here. I still go back every few months to visit my therapist and get a refill on my meds when I need it. But since I was a few months shy of turning 20, I’ve lived here in this condo right on the beach. Watching the tides calms me down whenever I feel worked up and shit.

“Has Maria come out since then?” Mickey asked. I could tell he was a little worried about her. I am too.

“Not since I started therapy. I think she likes it here too much to fuck it up.”

Mickey chuckled. “So when I told you about Ian and his bipolar disorder, you were talking from experience.”

I nodded. “The quicker you can get treatment, the better.”

Mickey leaned back as he took a swig of his drink. “Looks like a lot of fucked up shit happened over the years.”

I nodded, leaning back on the armrest behind me. “Things can only go up from here, hopefully.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So about HALF of that just happened while I was writing. I knew from the beginning that Rose would have DID, be Bisexual, done ROTC in high school and have that scar from a boyfriend. The first boyfriend & best friend thing wrote its way in there. But Ashlyn was completely unplanned. So, I’m kinda mad at myself for giving Rose someone like her to only take her away like that. I was almost in tears writing that part! Rose might find someone eventually, but now that’s not a main priority for her. It’s been almost three years, but Rose still isn’t over her. (#Rolyn) [Yes, I just created a ship name for them…. So sue me.]
> 
> If anyone can draw that last photo of Rose and Ashlyn together, please send it to me! (Tumblr @crazydchick)
> 
> In case anyone was curious, here’s what Ashlyn would look like (https://www.walldevil.com/brown-eyes-faces-redheads-women-wallpaper-15099/). The description of the necklace doesn’t give it justice. You can find that beauty here: https://www.amazon.com/Charm-Rose-Pendant-Zirconia-Necklace/dp/B01L1U9OK4/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1499051533&sr=8-7&keywords=silver+rose+necklace 
> 
> That’s it for this update! Let me know that you thought & hit me up here or on Tumblr if you have any comments/suggestions!


	4. “I’m kind of a Big Deal…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I stood up and walked into the room and scanned it with my eyes. The full-sized bed was made, with clean sheets. The room was clean. Curtains were pulled back to let the sunlight in. Everything looked normal to me when my eyes followed Mickey’s line of sight and saw what he was talking about.
> 
> I laughed before walking in. “You talking about my setup?"

**_One Week Later..._ **

 

_Her sweet scent filled my senses as I hugged her. Ashlyn pulled away from me as she looked back down at the necklace in her hands._

_“It’s beautiful Roe,” she said as her eyes sparkled._

_“Just like you,” I said._

_Ashlyn looked up at me before she looked away, a beautiful blush covering her cheeks._

_“Stop being so dramatic and help me put this on,” she said. I could only chuckle at her as I took the rose necklace from her hands and walked behind her. Ashlyn pulled her hair up as I placed her graduation present around her neck._

_Once it was on, I leaned in and kissed her neck before turning her around. The silver rose glinting up at me. We made eye contact for a brief moment before…_

 

* * *

THUD! THUD! THUD!

 

My eyes fluttered open as the loud banging on my front door brought me out of my dream. And it was getting to the good part, too!

Ever since I talked about Ashlyn to Mickey, I’ve had a dream every night with her. Reliving some of the best times with her, and this one was a good memory!

I groaned as I pulled myself out of bed and walked through the kitchen to the front door, yelling at the intruder to shut up.

I pulled the door open and saw Mickey standing there, wearing a black top and matching black cargo shorts. I glared at him, still half asleep.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Afternoon to you too, bitch.”

I just flipped him off before walking back into my kitchen. I heard Mickey enter and close the door behind him.

“But seriously, you were still asleep? It’s past noon!”

I shrugged my shoulders at him. “Your point? No work means sleeping in every day.”

I pulled the orange juice from the fridge and filled a glass with the liquid before putting it back. I downed half the glass as I walked to my couch.

“Don’t you need a job to keep affording this place?”

I shook my head at him. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout it. That whole waitressing gig was just a side job. You honestly think I could afford this place with the crap I got paid there?”

Mickey placed the bag he had in his hand on the ground and leaned against the bar that stood between the kitchen and living room.

I could tell Mickey was about to ask something when my phone rang. I walked over to the bar and unplugged my phone before Mickey could see who was calling and answered it.

 

“Hola!” I answered.

_“Ah, Rose! Darling, are you well rested? Ready to come back?” the other voice said in Spanish._

“Si.”

_“Perfect! I’ll email your schedule out to you now. Break a leg, darling. See you this weekend.”_

The line went dead after that. I looked at my inbox and read the names of bars and clubs listed in the email.

 

“Who was that?”

I looked over at Mickey and simply said, “My manager,” before walking back to the couch and my orange juice.

“Manager?” Mickey’s face was puzzled.

 

I looked at the bag at his feet as he tried piecing together why I’d need a manager. “What’s with the bag?”

He looked down and kicked said bag softly. “Was gettin’ kinda tired of the whole hotel hopping life. Thought I could ask if I could crash here a bit before I decide to skip town.”

“You’re just tired of being alone, aren’t you.”

“Fuck off.”

I smirked. Honestly, spending time and getting to know Mickey Milkovich over the past week has been fun. I’ve gotten to know more about Ian and what he’s been up to in more detail. And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually LIKE being around Mickey. I bet if he was like this as a kid, we could have been friends.

 

Seriously can’t believe that I think being friends with a fucking Milkovich was a good idea…

 

I looked at him as I stood up. “Second room is all yours,” I said as I pointed down the hallway towards it. Mickey picked up his bag and walked to it, mumbling thanks as he passed me.

I smiled as I sat back down and was about to finish my orange juice when I heard Mickey walk back up the hallway.

“What the fuck is in there?”

I looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

He points to the room. “You don’t remember what’s in there?”

I stood up and walked into the room and scanned it with my eyes. The full-sized bed was made, with clean sheets. The room was clean. Curtains were pulled back to let the sunlight in. Everything looked normal to me when my eyes followed Mickey’s line of sight and saw what he was talking about.

I laughed before walking in. “You talking about my setup? It’s just an electric keyboard and a couple guitars, Mick.”

“Why are they in here and not in your fuckin’ room?”

“Because I use this room to practice in. I don’t normally have visitors over, so my gear camps out in here.”

“And the bed?”

“Comes in handy when I’ve been practicing all day and need a nap.”

Mickey glares at me a moment before he recalls our earlier conversation. “So, you have a manager because…”

“I’m a cover artist.”

“The fuck is that?”

I chuckled before placing a hand on the keyboard. “It means that I perform covers of songs that professional artists sing. It’s quite a lucrative business here. Tourists and locals love live performances, especially when they’re fucked up on alcohol and drugs. I do have the occasional performance that’s not at a bar, club or when I’m surrounded by people who are completely wasted.”

“How often you perform?”

I shrug. “I’ve been on a break the past month. Resting my vocals and whatnot. But I usually have around five performances a week.”

“Fuck. No wonder you needed a break.”

 

My hands traveled on the keyboard. It felt nice feeling the keys under my hands again. Not performing for a month meant that I didn’t practice.

“So, you popular or some shit like that around here?”

“You could say that. I’m kind of a big deal.” I looked down at my gear and a small smile crept on my face. I missed singing.

“Hey Mick, help me move this into the living room.”

 

* * *

A few moments later, my guitars were placed in my bedroom along the back wall while my keyboard was placed in the living room. My fingers ghosted over the white and black keys, remembering the feeling of them underneath my fingers.

Mickey was sitting on the arms of the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “Do you want me to leave or…?”

I shook my head. “I like performing in front of people. Ashlyn would always sit in my room with me when I played. Back then it was just for fun. She would die if she knew this is what I would be doing instead of being in the Navy.”

Thinking about her made me remember a song that I haven’t sung since she died. But I still remembered it by heart. It was her favorite song.

 

It was _our_ song.

 

And I think it’s time I put it on my set list…

 

On instinct, my fingers started playing the first few bars of the song _Nightingale_ by Demi Lovato. Before I knew it, I started singing it.

 

_I can't sleep tonight_

_Wide awake and so confused_

_Everything's in line_

_But I am bruised_

 

All I could think of was Ashlyn. Her smile. Her laugh. Her energy. You could say she was the sparrow to my dove, always fluttering about while I just sat there watching her. But, more than anything else, she _became_ my Nightingale.

 

_Can you be my nightingale?_

_Sing to me_

_I know you're there_

_You could be my sanity_

_But bring me peace_

_Sing me to sleep_

_Say you'll be my nightingale_

 

She always thought that she wasn’t much of a singer, but to me, her voice was pure gold. I guess like how mine was to her. She would always hum and sing quietly to me when I ran to her house after escaping mine when my shithead of a father went on a bender.

 

_I don't know what I'd do without you_

_Your words are like a whisper cutting through_

_As long as you are with me here tonight_

_I'm good_

 

Knowing she was gone hurt, but knowing her spirit, her love, would never leave me gave me some strange comfort. Even now. Three years later and it still felt like a piece of me was missing. Fuck, I miss her.

 

_'Cause baby you're my sanity_

_You bring me peace_

_Sing me to sleep_

_Say you'll be my nightingale_

 

_Oh_

_Mm, mm_

_Mm_

 

After the last note was played, I realized that I got so lost in the music that I was crying. I wiped the escaping tears from my face and looked up at Mickey. A single tear escaped his eyes before he cleared his throat and quickly wiped the incriminating tear away.

“Well, fuck, Faulkner. If this is how you are just practicing, I can see why you got yourself a fuckin’ name here.”

I smirked a little at his comment. “Well, come to my show in two days and you’ll see what I can do on stage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out differently than I expected. Rose was supposed to do “Stone Cold” but the story drove me to “Nightingale” instead. As you can see, I’m still not over what I did in the last chapter! 
> 
> Also, the whole sparrow and dove thing. I pulled from a song that I absolutely love that a voice actor sings. (It's such a beautiful song.) It's called 'Star Seed', sung by Troy Baker. Look it up on YouTube. You'll be emotional by the end of the song, guaranteed.
> 
> Anyway, I think within the next chapter or so is the end of this story. There’s not much else that I can write about with Rose and Mickey in Mexico. But fear not! The ending of this only means that part two of the Rose Faulkner Chronicles is closing in.
> 
> And, I don’t know if anyone else wants this, but I might be uploading some RosexAshlyn fics soon. Kinda giving you a look into their relationship. Not sure yet if I’ll upload them, seeing as they follow two non-canon characters. Let me know what y’all think and if I should include them in this Collection or make a new one specifically for them. (If they do end up in this Collection, they’d most likely be written as flashback one-shots.)
> 
> That’s it for this update! If you feel like it, follow me on Tumblr @crazydcchick. (I need more people to scream about Shameless & Gallavich with.)


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